Cutie Delivered, Please Sign for it - Chapter 19 - Visiting the In-Laws

This year, Ji Jingqiu is 16 years old.To survive, he envisions the Fire House Buddha Prison, plants a bodhi treasure tree, and embarks on the path of martial arts.Many years later,A brilliant light arises, illuminating endless darkness.A towering ancient tree, with emerald green leaves and a canopy like a pavilion, rises with glass-like clarity into the sky, supporting a divine realm of pure land, spanning countless ages, illuminating the three realms and ten directions.On this day,All martial artists under heaven look up to it, like mayflies seeing the blue sky.......“Within there is a bodhi tree, which I planted when I set foot in martial arts, and now it has grown to provide a canopy.”“I see everything in the world, and nothing is like me.”“That year, I scoured history books, this history without era, I looked horizontally and vertically, and saw those characters – ‘The world’s storms come from us.’”...— Excerpt from the autobiography of Ji Jingqiu, the proud sun of the martial arts world of today.

The best actor was shooting a doomsday movie when he suddenly transmigrated to a real doomsday world and became Aon Flearov, a young man with a huge debt and a blood-sucking family.What does one do in the apocalypse?Of course, shoot variety shows, live streams, do ads, act in movies, hold concerts and fan meetings—The whole showbiz world was placed in real apocalypses, and Aon, a newly-debuted doomsday star, was thrown to a random variety show to fight zombies!It was at this desperate moment that Aon awakened a superpower—A system.DING! [Heyo, dad, your son is online~]Aon: [Son, are you a farming system? A counterattack system? A pay-to-win system?? Anything will do!]The system instantly burst into tears: [B-but dad, I'm a superstar system!]And so, in a doomsday dating variety show:The system picked and chose a few “cabbages” seriously:[Dad, do you want to find me a zombie step mom or an alien step dad? Old or young? One, two, three, or four?]In a doomsday gourmet show:The system handed a frying pan, spatula, guitar, piano:[Go, dad! I want a stir-fry zombie brain, alien omakase, mutated beast AYCE, spirit plant pancakes— ]In a doomsday idol survival show:The system looked at the zombies and aliens crying on their knees, begging for mercy:[Dad! They're all moved by your singing! They want an encore!][Dad! After you do the zombie dance, the zombies collectively change their race's name!]Doing part-time jobs in the eternal sun apocalypse, camping in a natural disaster doomsday, living with aliens, styling zombies in Doomsday Supermodel, turning into plants and fighting zombies, fighting against fellow doomsday celebrities in Doomsday Survival championships—Here, there are various shows you can and can't imagine. Name one, and it will come true.#An actor who cannot become a superstar isn't a good doomsday survivor#The three no:No R18No haremNo BL/Yuri— no bullying the author!PS: This novel is written by the author's cat

Though it may be a dream weathered, crumpled, fading,I held on without surrender.Through each repeated day, running toward tomorrow’s light,I became a knight, resolute and bright.

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?